by Mia Knight
Lyla stumbled down the stairs, looking around wildly for Gavin, but he wasn’t there. Her hands were clammy despite the dry heat that blew her hair out of her ruined French twist. There was a private car waiting for them. Blade put her in the back seat and sat up front with the driver. Because of the solid partition, she couldn’t hear them, which put her on edge. Now what?
As they drove away from the airstrip, the sky began to lighten. Las Vegas changed little since she left. The stark desert landscape was a far cry from Maine’s rocky coastline, lighthouses, forests and lakes. Lyla watched as they drove out of the city to a mansion surrounded by red rock mountains. This place was as familiar to her as her family home. They passed through an electronic gate into the inner courtyard, which was filled with armed guards patrolling the grounds. The car rounded the fountain in the drive and stopped. Blade opened her door. She took his hand because she didn’t want to fall on her face and she had some pride left. Blessedly numb, she walked up the steps into the foyer and stopped. She took in the familiar white marble floors and open floor plan of Gavin’s mansion. It was alarmingly quiet.
“Gavin’s at work,” Blade said shortly. “You want something to eat?”
Lyla shook her head. Blade took her arm and led her upstairs.
“What about my father?” she asked.
“Gavin will talk to you about him.”
“But, how do I know if he’s alive?”
“You don’t,” Blade said as he opened the door to a room and pushed her in. “I’m locking the door from the outside. If you need anything, use the phone on the nightstand.”
Lyla’s skin stretched tight as she surveyed the master bedroom. It hadn’t changed since she picked the sheets, drapes and cream carpet. She and Gavin spent countless hours making love in this room.
“C-can I wait for him in another room?” Anywhere else.
“No.”
Blade closed the door and turned the key in the lock. She waited until his steps retreated down the hallway before she tried the door. Yes, locked. Lyla stared at the bed as if it would come to life and swallow her whole. The girl that once inhabited this house, this room had been so naive, so trusting. Lyla wasn’t that girl, not any longer. Lyla retreated to the window seat and looked out over the property.
Gavin’s compound was ten minutes away from civilization. He was paranoid and liked his privacy. Even though she couldn't see it, she knew there was an Olympic size pool in the backyard and a monstrous garage that housed Gavin’s luxury cars. Lyla knew a secret route to get out of the mansion in case of an attack and the location of Gavin’s safe house in New Mexico.
Tears slipped from her eyes. She was in Gavin’s world again—a dangerous world swimming with violence, money and sex. She wanted no part of it. Damn her father for putting her in this position.
Lyla paced the room like a caged animal, taking in the walk in closet, opulent bathroom and familiar surroundings, which made her want to scream. Lyla dug her nails into her arm, willing herself to wake from this nightmare. She couldn’t be in Las Vegas, in the room she once shared with Gavin. What did Gavin want from her? She had no idea how he interpreted her escape three years ago. She suspected he would make an effort to find her, but thought he would give up by now. Did he renew the search when he found out her father embezzled money? Was she here for punishment?
Sick with worry and exhaustion, she settled on the window seat and wondered how long Gavin would make her wait. Since Gavin found her, he knew the measures she took to remain hidden. She paid an exorbitant amount to have a new identity created. She had a birth certificate, social security card and driver’s license declaring that her name was Morgan Lincoln. Her identification passed muster in five states. She traveled as far as possible from Nevada while staying on the same continent. She took low profile jobs and kept to herself until Jonathan. She didn’t know how to protect herself from his friendliness and warmth. For a short time she believed she could live a normal life. Now, she was back in hell, awaiting judgment. By now, Jonathan would know something was wrong. Would he come back early? Would he believe that she would willingly leave him?
Lyla moaned and stretched out on the window seat. She dozed in the sunlight streaming through the window as a tear slipped from her eye.
Chapter Two
Lyla lay against a warm chest. She looked up at Jonathan who wore an unusually somber expression. They were in bed in their apartment. Sunlight poured through the window, but the apartment was curiously silent and muted. She sat up and brushed a hand through his short cropped hair. Something niggled at the back of her mind, but she pushed it away so she could focus on him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Why didn’t you tell me about him?” Jonathan asked.
Lyla retracted her hand. She had no doubt who Jonathan was referring to. “How did you find out?”
“He called. He says he wants you back.”
Lyla tried to move off the bed, but Jonathan gathered her into his arms. She was surprised by his strength as he lay down and settled her beside him.
“Do you want to go back to him?” Jonathan asked gently.
“No!” she whispered, clutching fistfuls of his shirt. “Please don’t make me.”
“You want to stay with me?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll figure this out,” Jonathan said.
She relaxed fractionally, wanting to believe him. “We can?”
“I have connections,” Jonathan said and brushed her hair back from her face. “I’ll do anything for you, Lyla.”
Her heart swelled. Jonathan, her gentle knight. She was safe with him.
Lyla’s hands went to his chest. She needed him. She was so damn cold. Desperate to feel his hot skin against hers, she ripped the front of his shirt and heard buttons bounce across the floor.
“Lyla,” he began, but she covered her mouth with his.
She had never been so hungry or desperate for touch and comfort. She tore off her clothes and plastered her naked chest to his. She moaned at the contact even as he ripped her underwear. She felt the snap of fabric on her inner thighs and then cool air a moment before his fingers pressed into her. Even as his aggression made her hot, something about it struck her as odd, but she couldn’t think with the inferno between them. She kissed him, drinking from his lips to wash away the taste of fear. His fingers burrowed into her channel, making her dizzy with need.
“I need you,” she said as she trailed kisses over his face. “Don’t let me go.”
Jonathan suddenly pinned her beneath him. He spread her thighs and pressed the head of his cock over her slick lips.
“Do you want me, Lyla?” he rasped.
“More than anything,” she said, reaching for him, needing him inside of her. She needed Jonathan to claim her, to make her believe she was his and no one else’s.
“Lyla,” he moaned a second before he slid inside of her.
The burn of pleasure rocketed through her. She paused to savor the moment. Here, something was different as well, but she couldn’t think when she was so full of him and his mouth devoured hers. He was dominant and animalistic, taking her as he never had before. Pleasure burst through her, eclipsing fear and replacing it with ecstasy.
“Do you belong to me?” he asked.
Lyla tossed her head back as he sped up his thrusts. He was going deeper than he ever had, as if he could sense her desperation and need. Instead of his usual gentleness there was an edge of violence to his lovemaking that made her wild.
“Lyla, promise me.”
“Promise what?” She was having a hard time concentrating. Why did he want to talk now? She was so close—
He stopped moving. “Promise you won’t leave me again.”
“I never left you,” Lyla said and rocked against him, desperate for relief.
“You did,” he growled.
Lyla’s breath stalled in her throat as a sliver of fear cut through the ecstasy. She tried to push away, but he kept her
in place with heavy, deliberate thrusts that made her moan through clenched teeth.
“You'll never leave me again,” he decreed.
Lyla opened her mouth to argue, but the climax hit so hard and fast that she wasn't prepared for it. She let out a high-pitched scream as he pounded into her. Jonathan's face began to distort. Even as Lyla reached up and raked her nails along Jonathan's back, she realized it was too broad and muscled. Confusion and panic clouded her mind. She blinked furiously as the orgasm faded and reality smacked her in the face.
Lyla wasn't in her apartment in Maine with Jonathan. She was in Gavin’s master suite in his home and he was fucking her. Gavin’s harsh breaths filled the room as he thrust into her, amber gaze spearing hers as he neared his climax. Through the dim light of a nearby lamp, Lyla was able to see that he was fully dressed in a gray suit, his shirt ripped down the front with just his pants undone.
“No!” Lyla screamed and tried to get away, but she was pinned beneath a solid body that definitely wasn’t Jonathan's.
“I missed you so much,” Gavin said and brushed kisses over her face, even as she tried to avoid his mouth. Gavin’s face darkened and he planted himself to the hilt. “You’re mine,” Gavin hissed a moment before he climaxed, flooding her with his sperm.
She dreamed of escaping him, only to wake and find him fucking her. Lyla began to shake uncontrollably as he hovered over her, not saying a word. His familiar cologne wreathed her senses and made her stomach lurch.
“How could you do this to me?” she whispered and then pounded his chest and screamed, “Get off me!”
“Lyla—”
“No, let me go!”
Gavin flipped her on her stomach and rested his full weight on her. Lyla turned her head to the side so she could breathe and dug her nails into the rumpled sheets that smelled of them. Enraged and helpless, she beat at the mattress and tried to buck him off with no luck.
“Don’t,” he warned in a lethal voice.
“You raped me!” she seethed and tried to bite him.
“You wanted me,” Gavin said against her ear, causing her to shiver. “As soon as I got into bed, you reached for me. You ripped my shirt and told me you needed me.”
“I was dreaming, you asshole!” She didn't get wet for him, she was dreaming about Jonathan. That’s why her body responded, right? Lyla stiffened when Gavin’s cock slid between her legs again.
“You recognize my touch even in sleep, baby girl.”
“No!” She tried to dislodge him, but he controlled her easily. This couldn't be happening. “Please, Gavin.”
His hands moved over her, just as they had in the dream. “Do you know how many times I dreamed of having you beneath me like this again?”
“You can't do this to me! Stop, Gavin!” she sobbed as he moved inside of her.
“I can do anything I want to you,” he said and brushed achingly light kisses along her wet cheek. “I own you, Lyla Dalton.”
Lyla buried her face in the sheets as he fucked her. Her body betrayed her, welcoming him and clutching at his cock. Gavin groaned into her hair and moved faster.
“You won’t escape me this time,” he said, hands stroking her body, overloading her senses.
She shook her head, unable to speak as he climaxed and came with a triumphant shout that she was sure his security on duty could hear. Lyla hated that her body demanded its own release. Didn’t her body know that she hated him? The moment Gavin eased to the side, she rolled off the bed and ran to the en suite bathroom.
“Lyla—” Gavin began, but she slammed the door.
Lyla stepped into the shower and turned it on full blast. She scrubbed her body vigorously, trying to erase his touch and scent. How could her body respond to him? How had her dream merged seamlessly with reality so that she thought she was having sex with Jonathan instead of Gavin? She crumpled to the ground, hands splayed on the floor as she wept. What did Gavin want from her? Was he trying to punish her? If he wanted to make her feel dirty and violated, he succeeded. The shock finally caught up to her and she sobbed uncontrollably.
“Lyla.”
She felt a draft as Gavin opened the shower door. At any other time she would have been mortified by the whimper that escaped from her lips, but she was too far gone to care. The impact of seeing him after all these years was like a punch in the gut. The young, slick boss in training was gone. His hair was longer than she remembered and his body had a layer of muscle that made Jonathan look like a boy going through puberty. Gavin crouched in front of her and brushed wet hair back from her face.
“Don't cry,” he ordered roughly.
She stared into his beautiful eyes framed by dark lashes and had the suicidal urge to punch him. Gavin narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
“Don’t, baby girl.”
She hated that he knew her so well, even after all this time. Was she that predictable? Had she learned nothing since she left him? Her mind skittered as she tried to figure out how to handle him. “Leave me alone.”
Gavin picked her up with a show of effortless strength that scared her. He settled her on a seat built into the shower and squirted shampoo into his hands. Before she could avoid him, he began to massage it into her scalp. The familiar smell of her favorite shampoo startled even as it soothed her. Lyla sat like a broken doll as Gavin bathed her. Lyla felt as if she were in an alternate reality. This couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be here with Gavin. She didn’t have sex with him and he couldn’t be washing her as if he had every right to. Lyla retreated into her mind because she wasn’t capable of digesting what was happening to her.
Gavin cleaned himself before he stepped out of the shower with her. He engulfed her in a soft cashmere robe and sat her in front of the vanity as he toweled her hair dry and brushed it. She was blessedly numb and didn’t say a word. She examined Gavin in the mirror as he tended to her. The man in the mirror was a far cry from the man she fell in love with. Back then, Gavin had been arrogant and charming and possessed more power than one person should. Most people never witnessed the darkness in him since he was so good at disguising it. Now, it was on full display as if he didn’t bother wearing a mask these days. Although he was tending to her as efficiently as a maid, power emanated from him and kept her still and quiet before him. Once upon a time she loved him without reservation. She had been a fool. It took four years to realize that she was living a lie. Her emotions were a tangle of nostalgia, rage, fear and betrayal. She loathed him and yet... There was a small part of her that still believed he was the boy she’d fallen in love with. How could she love and hate him at the same time?
Gavin seemed harder and colder than she remembered and it scared her. Gavin was so familiar and yet... not. How much had he changed in three years? Lyla reminded herself that Gavin had never been anything but gentle with her, but she knew that could change in a heartbeat. Lyla didn't realize she was crying again until Gavin crouched in front of her. He cupped her face between his hands and brushed her tears away with his thumb. Piercing amber eyes moved over her face.
“Don’t cry,” he ordered softly.
“I don't know how to stop,” she whispered and began to shake.
Gavin gathered her in his arms and carried her back into the bedroom. Panic infused her and she began to struggle as he settled her on the bed.
“I'm not going to fuck you again,” Gavin said.
Lyla took him at his word and curled into a ball on one side of the bed. There was an awful silence and then arms pulled her back against a large body. Lyla made a distressed sound and tried to get away, but her limbs were weak with exhaustion and shock. She could feel his body heat through the robe, which reminded her of the dream and how she ripped “Jonathan's” shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. Her eyes scanned the floor and stopped on the buttons scattered over the carpet. She moaned and covered her face with her hands. No wonder he fucked her. She practically begged him to do it. Within hours of being in his vicinity, he fucked her twice.
What did this mean? Guilt clawed her insides. She was in love with Jonathan, yet Gavin made her come and played her body as easily as if she'd never been with another man. She hated herself.
“I want to see my dad,” she said. She wouldn't be able to rest until she saw that he was alive. Gavin was underhanded enough to use her father to bring her back and still kill him for embezzling half a million.
“Tomorrow,” Gavin said.
“No.” Lyla rolled and braced herself to face him. “I want to see him.”
Gavin stared at her for a long moment before he rose. “He’s downstairs.”
Lyla’s heart lightened a bit. She slipped out of bed and belted the cashmere robe, which was too large for her. Gavin pulled on a pair of jeans and black T-shirt. She didn't comment as he put a gun in his waistband.
“Come,” he said and opened the door.
Lyla held her breath as she passed him. She stopped in her tracks when she saw movement at the end of the hallway. She flushed with mortification as Gavin ushered her forward. The guards were expressionless, but she knew they heard her being fucked by their boss. She looked like the weak female they assumed her to be. In this world, women were bought and sold to the highest bidder. And there were none more powerful than Gavin. She tasted bile in her mouth as Gavin led her down the staircase and to the basement, the only area in the house that had been off-limits to her.
Lyla’s damp palms slid along the iron railing as she walked down the steps that lead into the basement. It was chilly down here and the smell of blood was overwhelming. There were no windows in the basement, just endless concrete. Florescent lights revealed a figure in the middle of the room tied to a chair. Blood splattered the floor around him and he wasn't moving.
Lyla shoved past Gavin to reach her father. She clasped his head between trembling hands. His face was swollen, discolored and grotesque. His nose had been broken and his lips were ripped from being pummeled against his teeth. Unfocused, dark brown eyes opened.
“Dad?” Lyla said urgently and snapped, “Gavin, untie him.”
“Do it,” Gavin said and Blade appeared with a knife.
